Snakes Choking the Red Heart: A Game of Cards
by Kitteekill
Summary: A wonderland of sorts... A boring day at the manor for Draco turns into the most unusual adventure of his life, and he must beat the Red Queen at her own game. If he doesn't, the Wonderland becomes reality. And one more thing- he has to do it in a dress.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N before we begin! Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, as Alice in Wonderland belongs to Lewis Carroll, I only own portions the dialogue and fanmade content within this work, hence it being on fanfiction. All other portions are quotes from the work itself and are recognized here as being not my own as much as I wish they were. Alrighty then! Onward march! :3**

_Chapter One: From the workplace to the Wonderland: Where to begin?_

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop"

-Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_

Draco sat alone in the study that he had been given, a frown curving his delicate features. His silver eyes narrowed, he glanced out the window forlornly before packing up his work papers. He was taking over the family business, but sadly, he had not gotten much done that day. A year after the fall of the Dark Lord, and both his parents were jailed with a life sentence. To be quite honest, Draco was more than capable of operating the trading business, but it felt off to him. Such a boring, confined life at the young age of eighteen was not suited to a boy who had traveled most his life. Perhaps he should go take a walk, to clear his mind, before the maids finished dinner.

As he strolled down the well-manicured path, his mind calculating numbers, remembering important names. It was so difficult to live in the real world sometimes, but he had been raised to squash out foolish notions like escaping the harshness of the real world. Suddenly, he was brought out of his thoughts by a flash of orange and white streaking across his lawn, and he followed hastily after the footsteps it had left. He caught a glimpse of the intruder, and found himself gawking at a waistcoat wearing, bespectacled version of Ronald Weasley, white rabbit's ears atop his shaking head. What on earth was a bloody Weasley doing on his property, let alone with such ridiculous garb on.

"Oi! Weasley! What on earth are you-" Draco didn't get to finish, because the Ron-Rabbit was already sprinting away, calling over his shoulder that he was late for a very important date. Swearing, Draco sprinted after him, and his dress shoe was caught on a root. Waving his arms comically, he was thrown down a hole right where the rabbit had just been, and he gasped as he realized what had just happened. Trying to grab onto anything was useless; Draco was hurtling at a breakneck speed straight at the blackness below him. Suddenly, he felt himself slow, and the world went black just as he flipped upside down.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a room with a small door that had a clever face carved into it, and he couldn't quite figure why it looked so familiar to him. Inching closer, he saw the knowing smile, the alert eyes, the air of smugness… of Hermione Granger. Stranger still, he looked down and with horror regarded the blue dress that came down just past his knees, the white frilly apron adorning his waist. White stockings covered the rest of his legs, and below those, black Mary -Janes. Surely this was a bad dream of sorts, and that was why he was in a dress. But, if so, when had he fallen asleep? He had been awake the entire time in the office, he had been well rested the night before, and as far as he knew, he had yet to fall asleep while standing. _So when? _

There was a significant problem with this door, beyond the fact that it had a blinking, quite alive face inside it. It was the appropriate size for a doll, perhaps, but not so much a six-foot tall grown boy. A small table sat in the middle of the chamber, apparently empty. Draco stepped around it to the door, and tried turning the door's handle.

"Oh my, you can't pass through at your current size! Why, it's simply impassible!" cried the Hermione-Door in such a way that caused Draco to jerk; it was that normal tone of know-it-all that usually accented her voice. How odd to find something so familiar here.

"Why, don't you mean impossible," corrected Draco, eyes trained on those of the door. (What odd things to be thinking, to be staring down a door!)

"No, I do mean impassible," the Hermione-Door laughed, "Nothing's impossible!"

"What utter nonsense," Draco muttered, quite unhappy with his situation. "Then how _do _I get through?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? After all, there's a bottle saying _Drink Me _on the table right behind you! One would usually find it to be quite self-explanatory," huffed his wooden companion, and he turned slowly, already knowing that she was right. The once empty tale now held a bottle bearing the words Drink Me on a tag attached to the neck. Draco blinked a couple of times, then sniffed the mixture to check for any sort of poison. If you drink much from a bottle of poison it is certain to disagree with you sooner or later.

Taking a deep breath, he drank the liquid, and shivered. Suddenly, a great feeling of plain wrongness spread throughout him, and he found himself the perfect height to fit through the door now. He walked over and grasped the handle once more, expecting it to open. Instead, the door giggled strangely and looked back towards the table.

"I believe you've forgotten your key, I'm locked, you see?" Draco gritted his teeth, and made a few desperate attempts to hop back up onto the table. No such luck, as expected, and that's when he saw it. A small biscuit, bearing the words 'eat me' in pink cursive on it lay before him, and he took a suspicious bite. He shot up again, and was able to easily grab the key off the table, then suddenly found himself wondering how he would get through the door now that he was large again. Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the wall, and his fist came into contact with a protruding rock. Blood began pouring from his hand, and the room was soon submerged. The door gasped and choked, opening up to the bloody sea. Grimacing, he grabbed teh bottle and drank from it, choking on the bitter taste of his own blood. He was a Malfoy; he would do what he had to do if it meant survival. Whatever this nonsense was about, he would get to the bottom of it, no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay guys… I know that Fred is technically a goner, but I loved him too much… So in this FF, he's alive, well, and mischievous as ever! I couldn't let him be dead… (weep in corner)**

_Chapter Two: Seas of Blood Inside His Mind_

"… 'Of course, he's mad too'

'But I don't want to go among mad people.'

'Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad here. You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself."

-Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_

Blood was something that Draco had always been used to. As a child, blood had been something that his father seemed to relish the sight of, and as a result, Draco was quite accustomed to it. However, the fact that he was swimming in a sea of his own blood in a ridiculous dress and was about three inches tall made him just a wee bit uncomfortable. Finally, he saw land, and found a very-birdlike Arthur Weasley atop the island, a circle of people running about in a circle. He was dragged in and began running too for fear of being trampled, wondering just where all this nonsense had come from. He gasped as he saw the Ron-Rabbit and broke away from the circle running down the mysteriously appeared path after it. He was going to get to the bottom of this, because whoever was screwing with his head was going to pay dearly.

He sprinted down the path, finding that he no longer had white kid gloves upon his fair hands, and he stretched his long fingers, wondering when they'd come off. Well, all the better for him, to lose a piece of the ridiculous costume that would not come off when he tugged at it. Some bad things were about to go down for whoever thought that this was amusing in any vague sense of the word. He was soon blocked by an obstacle in the form of the Weasley twins.

"What on earth is it with these bloody Weasleys today?" Draco cried, stopping shortly before barreling into them.

"I believe…" Fred started, his eyes twinkling.

"That it is you who is bloody," George finished, noticing that a very disturbed Draco had his eyes fixed on where a mushroom was growing where his ear had once been.

"Let us tell you a story and we'll let you past," they chorused, leaning their identical faces in. Malfoy took one step back, then another. _How will I get past them?_

"Alright, I'll have a listen. Please though, it does bore me when people recite without passion. Act it out, if you will," Draco commanded imperiously, taking a seat in the dirt since his clothes were already ruined. And so they did, and Draco waited until they were very into their story to creep away, a sly smile curving his lips. _Whoever is pulling the strings has to do better than that to get me._

He continued hurtling down the path until he found the burrow **(Sorry for the impromptu A/N but Ron is the rabbit, and he lives in the Burrow, like a rabbit…. Yeah, sorry, pun over.)**. It was exactly the same as in real life, and he rushed inside, only to be thrust into the hallway by a very irritated looking Ron.

"There you are! Find me my broomstick, I'm late for Quidditch at the Queen's!" He exclaimed, giving Malfoy another shove. Using creative language to illustrate exactly where Weasley could put his broomstick **(leaving that one to the imagination of my readers)**, Draco began a search, not even knowing where Ron's room was. Finally! He gave an exclamation of relief as he seized the beaten down broomstick and began rushing out the door. A small hand grabbed his ankle, and Draco had only time to give an exasperated sigh before the garden gnome hurled him off with a cry of 'How do you like it?'

He was in a garden now, a garden of rather tall flowers that resembled the ones he had at home. They were murmuring to one another, and at that point, Draco wasn't even surprised. He had to give the creator of this madhouse points for creativity, if nothing else. The flowers stopped murmuring as a large rose lifted him up on one of its leaves, studying him cautiously. He was cringing away from the thorns, holding himself carefully so as to not be impaled.

"And just what sort of flower might _you _be?" The rose asked curiously, its blood red petals spreading out to reveal a small face.

"I'm not a bloody flower… I'm a Malfoy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll put me down this instant!" Draco exclaimed indignantly, and the flower, dropped him roughly off the leaf.

"Not a flower! A weed, then. A Malfoy doesn't sound like anything good at all," the rose pushed him roughly so that he skidded out of the garden. Muddy and bloodstained. What next? It seemed that even in this nonsensical hell Malfoy was not a good name to hear. It was oddly comforting, the small shred of normality in this place.

Brushing himself off with the sudden realization that the flowers had taken his hairband, which again he was grateful for, he wandered until he saw smoke. The smoke was an insubstantial alphabet soup, afloat in the air in all its rainbow glory. Draco ran a hand over his face, he should've known that it would be a blue caterpillar with a hookah pipe. After all, it seemed to be what made least sense, wasn't it. As he looked closer at the unnervingly human face of the caterpillar, he recognized the features as those of Percy Weasley. Yes, this was definitely the work of a sadist. Only someone with true cruelty would lock him in a land of Weasleys.

"Who. Are. You?" The words drifted out of the hookah pipe as they left the caterpillars' mouth in a haughty tone.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, you idiot. Don't you remember? You would try to be authoritative, I would show that I am superior to you, you would deny it and go be a pompous prat elsewhere…" Draco trailed off when he saw Percy shake his head as he spoke.

"Who! Are! You?" This time he spoke louder, and Draco frowned irritably at the creature. This conversation was clearly getting him nowhere. He began pushing through weeds and grass, determined to find his way out of the Wonderland. He could hear the caterpillar calling after him to wait, and, gritting his teeth, he headed back to the large mushroom where sat the caterpillar. "One side makes you larger, the other makes you small, if you're tired of being tarter, then you may make the call," the caterpillar rhymed with a certain smug air, then slunk off. One side… of what? The mushroom? Perhaps…

Draco held in his hands a bit from either side of the mushroom, and he contemplated what to do. If he ate too much of one side, he could either disappear entirely or grow to an unbearable size. If he ate too little, he could find himself in a predicament worse than his current. Also, there was the question of which side did what. Eventually, he took a tentative bite of the bit in his right hand, and he grew until the trees were at his nose. Draco sighed, and was alarmed to see the entire forest move. Right, to be careful with _that_.

Gingerly, he pinched the other morsel of the mushroom and took a small bite, only to find himself back to three inches tall. Draco groaned, tilting his head back. Getting an idea, he lightly touched the right one with the tip of his tongue, and was relieved to find himself six feet tall once more. Brushing himself off, he found that there was no longer lace on his apron and socks. Another piece of the costume had disappeared, then, as to be expected. Frowning, he began walking once more, with no idea how he was supposed to ever escape the mad fantasy he had somehow fallen into.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Mad Attendants and Shoe Theft, What Next?_

"Riddles? Now let me see… Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Why is a what?"

"Careful! She's stark ravin' mad!"

-Lewis Carroll, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland _

Draco was thoroughly lost; he had been wandering this path from the mushroom for a while now and was exhausted. He ran a hand through his white-blonde mop, silvery eyes drifting closed a moment. That was when he heard it, the lunatic giggle that was drifting down from the tree above him. He looked up in bewilderment, for there was no one anywhere to be seen. As he watched in a tired sort of amazement, a grin appeared, and then slowly a girl formed. Draco was now looking at an even crazier Luna Lovegood than usual, very natural looking cat's ears perched atop her head.

"Of course. Lovegood's a cat now. Because _that _makes sense. Any idea where I go from here?" Draco looked up at her with his narrow eyes, hating asking for help. However, he supposed that asking for help was far better than being stuck in this place forever.

"Well, that all depends on where it is you would like to go," replied Luna in a saccharine tone, twitching her tail around and tapping his nose with it. Grimacing, Draco swatted it away impatiently and sneezed.

"I really don't mind where, just to be somewhere—"

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go, now does it?" Luna smiled cleverly. "If you're just looking for a somewhere, you'll certainly get there if you walk long enough." Draco massaged his forehead, holding in a scream of frustration. It seemed that every creature in here was designed to make him beat his head against the wall.

"Where can I find other people around here?" He rephrased, hoping that the cat could not invert this statement.

"Over to the right lives the Hatter, and to the left is the March Hare. I should tell you; they're both mad," Luna sang the last part, obviously delighted by the nonsense of the land.

"But I don't want help from a mad person!" Cried Draco, knowing that he sounded childish but was too fatigued to care.

"Well, there's no help for that. You're mad, I'm mad, we're all mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" queried Draco, now quite interested in what the odd feline had to say.

"You're here, aren't you?" Luna twisted over again in the tree, and began disappearing with one last exclamation of "Don't forget Quidditch with the Queen!". Draco sighed, figuring he would rather go see the Hatter first. At least that would be a mad human as opposed to a mad rabbit.

Draco came upon a set table at which sat a merry looking Harry in a green top hat that matched his wide eyes, and there beside him sat a ginger rabbit known to the factual world as Ginny Weasley. A bit down the table was Neville, slumped over as he was napping, a teacup upon his head. The table was large, at least the size of the one at his own home, but the moment they saw him they broke into a cry of "No Room!". Draco frowned at them, his delicate features surely developing that expression as permanent.

"Honestly! There's a good deal of room!" snapped Draco, plopping down tiredly in a chair. It was then that he saw that somewhere between his arrival and him taking a seat, the Ginny-hare had disappeared. She reemerged a moment later, holding his black mary-janes high above her and giggling with a flushed face.

"Hatter! I've got his shoes~" She warbled, and Harry clapped his hands together.

"Good show, love!" He cried in joy, and they began skipping in circles, tossing the shoes between them as they did so. Draco, quite indignant, stood up to retrieve his shoes only to find that the ground was quite hard without them.

"Oi! Give me back," Draco began as they pulled him into the center of the circle, "my bloody shoes! Do you hear me?" But, they did not seem to hear him. Rather, they only increased the pace of their insane game of monkey-in-the-middle, leaving Draco hopping and grabbing for the shoes. Eventually, the shoes soared out of the both of their grasps and landed upon the sleeping Neville, who sat up with a start. Neville held them up, then studied them, then shoved each one into a teapot before going back to sleep. Draco slapped a hand to his forehead, becoming less and less surprised by the moment at the actions of the people in his land.

"Oh, Hatter, the Dormouse's gone and made Shoe Tea for us! Isn't he just a dear?" Ginny skipped over, pouring into a cup from the teakettle. Instead of tea coming out, out came shoe polish. Draco coked his head to the side, debated whether or not to ask, and decided he really didn't want to know.

"A deer? But, no, my Hare, he's a mouse! Perhaps he was once a deer, but as of now, he is very much a mouse!" Harry jumped onto the table to make this declaration, and kicked a teapot at Draco. He caught it deftly but had to dodge when the teacups started flying at his head.

It was during this that the Ron-rabbit appeared once more, staring at his watch in panic. Harry seized the watch, examining it while Ron kept on chanting about how late he was.

"But of course you're late," began Harry, prying the watch open as Ron watched in horror. "This clock is two days too fast!" And with this, he began slathering butter on it, along with a hearty helping of shoe polish. Draco simply stared in incredulity that someone really had this much imagination. Finally finishing "fixing" the watch with a scoop of lemon curd, Harry slammed it shut and handed it back to Ron as it sputtered and died. The Hatter gave a smile that said "you're welcome" and began dancing randomly with Ginny, oblivious to Draco's presence as he stormed out after the ginger boy. It seemed he was going to have to find his own answers, and he would start by finding out just what was so important about Quidditch with the Queen.


End file.
